'The Real Housewives Of Orange County' Recap: 'Hold Your Tongue'

Note: Do not read on if you have not yet seen Season 8, Episode 15 of Bravo's "Real Housewives of Orange County," titled "Hold Your Tongue."

We're still in Canada, that frozen, foreign land to the north. In this strange, remote territory, napkins are called "serviettes." Police are "Mounties." M&Ms are "Smarties." And yet, our O.C. ladies are still good ol' American bats--t crazy.

We last left a tormented Vicki screaming on a Whistler ski slope, defending her honor against Lauri's allegations of her various sexual shenanigans. Now the ladies are back in their element, getting ready for dinner at the Four Seasons. Vicki is dolled up in a clingy black dress with burgundy faux-fur cuffs the size and patina of fresh Cinnabons.

Lydia invites her Christian-sister Alexis to the no-drama-zone of her suite. "This is not what Canada is about," Lydia clarifies. "A group of Canadian women would not get in a fight on a ski slope about threesomes." Lauri stops by the neutral suite in a seafoam fur vest and inquires if she's still invited to dinner, what with all the Vicki tension. Consummate hostess Lydia says that of course she is. Do we think this dinner might be confrontational?

Before said dinner commences, Lauri reveals to camera that Vicki had leaked a scandalous email about her husband George, a nefarious tale that "went viral," and that's the reason she's been so intent on taking Vicki down this season. Interesting.

Tamra predicts that Vicki might shove a bottle of Vicki's Vodka up Lauri's nether-regions if she stirs up trouble again.

All seems well at first, as the ladies all enjoy some British Columbia rosé. Vicki reveals that all she wants out of life is love, friends, family and good sex, and alludes that sex with Brooks is the best. Gag reflex.

Lauri immediately interjects that Brooks seems "too good to be true." Vicki then calls her "classless." Game on.

There's a pointless semantics discussion regarding the correct usage of the terms "hypocrisy" and "ironic," which all the ladies seem unilaterally unclear about, but the takeaway is that Lauri, Gretchen, and Vicki have all accused each other of bad sexual conduct, and it's not cool for any of them to throw shade at each other at random intervals.

Gretchen confronts Vicki, alleging that Vicki deemed Gretchen a gold digger from the get-go. Vicki then says, "Why are we going five years back?" and relates this is tantamount to "regurgitating throw-up" a redundant analogy that I would like to immediately delete from my brain.

Gretchen expresses that it is "ironic" that ever since they've unearthed Vicki's "indescrepencies," Vicki wants to just gloss over everyone else's. Vicki states that she's done, and that while she'll never be friends with Lauri, she wishes her "only the best" with George.

Vicki and her giant fur-sleeves finally exit dinner with a succinct but somewhat contextually problematic "Kumbaya!"

Then, Gretchen and Tamra have a sit-down. Gretchen doesn't understand why Tamra and Vicki are suddenly BFFs again. Gretchen says she's just trying to move forward. Tamra is hurt -- she says that Gretchen made it seem like she turned down a (non-existent) role on "Malibu Country" to go wedding dress shopping with her, and subsequently feels played.

Gretchen counters that every time Tamra and Vicki get together it compromises their friendship. The two of them finally run out of accusations and, perhaps bolstered by fine Canadian wines, hug it out.

The next day, a totally hot Canadian tour guide takes them snowmobiling. According to Lauri's iPhone app, it's a treacherous 37 degrees. The van ride towards the snowmobiling destination is quite tense. But all the ladies agree it's going to be a "happy day," as Lauri asides that she doesn't want to be in the path of Vicki's snowmobile.

The group is then presented with utilitarian snowmobiling jackets and boots, and are all forced to strip out of their fur-lined finery. Alexis calls her snowmobile helmet a "hair-smasher."

After some hapless snowmobile action, Tamra pees in the snow. Then Vicki launches a snowball arsenal at Lauri. After each weak snowball assault, she screams, "That's for being mean to Brooks, that's for being a hypocrite, that's for being ironic, that's for being 'freaky-deaky.'" (?)

But at the end of it all, they're all laughing and it seems that a snowy detente has at last been reached. Lydia is pleased. "Call it Canadian magic, but maybe all we needed was a snowball fight to get along." Maybe so!

We now check in with Heather, tucked in a limo and wrapped in a series of tiny, natty neck scarves. She's gabbing to Tamra about her wonderful time on set of "Malibu Country." Tamra says it's shady that Gretchen claims to have gotten a part on the show. She relates that when people lie about little things they could be lying about everything. Heather agrees, in her solemn, no-BS tone.

Back in B.C., the ladies all head out to dinner at the Bearfoot Bistro. There's a tasting menu and a vodka "ice room." Apparently, it's the coldest ice room in the world at minus 26 degrees. At dinner, the group concludes that Vicki is a little bit "horny." Vicki then slams a glass of champagne on the table.

"She's taking out her sexual frustrations on that poor champagne glass," Tamra interviews. "I can only imagine what she does to a penis."

I, for one, do not want to imagine this.

Down in the O.C., Heather arrives home from the set and her husband Terry, wearing a curious camo zip-up sweatshirt, welcomes her warmly; triumphantly relating that he can take care of the kids himself -- well, along with his mother-in-law and Heather's personal assistant. Heather hugs her kids and says she feels relaxed and happy. It's a nice moment.

Back at the Bearfoot Bistro, the ladies all don giant fur-lined jackets to enter the vodka ice room of doom.

"We looked like a big bag of marshmallows, but a cute bag of marshmallows," Gretchen interviews, correctly.

At the behest of their ice-room attendant, the ladies all do a Polish toast, (Nostrovia!) and drink sub-zero vodka shots. Vicki passive-aggressively dares Tamra to stick her tongue on the ice wall, and Tamra complies, pulling a full-on "Christmas Story." By her screams, apparently it has stuck.

"Cat got your tongue?" Vicki interviews.

After much screaming, Tamra's tongue is finally released from the ice wall.

"Thank god Heather isn't here because I can feel her rolling her eyes all the way up to Canada," Lydia interviews. Ha.

Tamra then calls Terry to relay the symptoms of her "medical emergency" and explains that the tip of her tongue may have fallen off and is worried about frostbite. Terry seems less than concerned, and counsels that the tiny portion of her tongue that stuck to the wall may now have frostbite, but her remaining tongue is probably doing just fine.

Terry and Heather then have a cozy domestic moment, despite his tragic camo shirt. He says he's really happy and excited for Heather's new career strides and feels genuinely glad that she's content, confident, and "glowing."

"I haven't seen this spark in a long time," he says, and they both seem genuinely bonded as a couple. Good on the Dubrows!

Meanwhile at the Bearfoot Bistro, the ladies are treated to a liquid nitrogen dessert display, and Alexis says she needs to know how to execute this technique at home for her family. Everyone in the Southern California area, kindly make your way to the nearest fallout shelter if this actually happens.

Vicki then interviews that she wants to move past everything. And that life is about having fun. Everyone agrees that "at the end of the day," it's all about being around people you're inspired by. "My glass is half-full," Vicki says. The status of her "love tank" is still unclear.

Regardless, Lydia loved the trip. She saw Tamra pee in the snow and learned about a threesome. A good time was had by all!

Before we conclude ... last week I promised to create a specialty cocktail themed after "Vicki's New Orleans Threeway." And, after much consideration, here it is:

Combine all over ice in a bedazzled cocktail shaker. Shake and strain into an oversize martini glass with elaborate adornments and intricate etchings. Drink and repeat, until you wake up in a NOLA hotel room with a strange dude and/or woman (preferably both).

(*If Vicki's Vodka is unavailable due to pending legal issues, substitute with Tito's, Stoli, or Ketel if you're feeling extra-classy).

Next week -- oh no, Gretchen is in a recording studio. Terry considers taking time off from his medical practice. Alexis confronts Gretchen. Vicki calls out Brooks for dating a "cocktail waitress." Nostrovia to all, and to all a good night.